


Angelcakes

by alienchrist



Series: OG Love [2]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Blow Job, Dirty Talk. First Time, Fluff, Hand Job, High School, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Rare Pairing, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-14
Updated: 2009-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a year of dating, Machi's desperate to consummate his relationship with Wocky, but his friends' advice on seduction may hinder more than help. A sequel to <b>The Way I Are</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Way I Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724) by [alienchrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist). 



10:26PM on a Wednesday night. There wasn't a single light on in the Kitaki mansion. Since the gangster family went into the baking business, their hours changed drastically. Little Plum and Big Wins had turned in for bed 25 minutes ago. Had to be up at 5AM to start baking, after all.

They left their son and his fair-haired boyfriend dozing and cuddled up under blankets on the couch. The blue light of the TV flickered across their gently breathing forms.

Machi was awake, his back to the screen. He admired Wocky. Smoothed delicate fingers over his two-toned hair. Asleep and deprived of all loudness and mannerism, Wocky was very handsome. He even looked like an adult. Machi smiled as Wocky stirred awake and gave him a sleepy smile.

"Did I die and go to heaven?"

"Yes," said Machi, hunkering down to kiss his lips. Wrapped legs around him. The couch was narrow for both of their forms. He needed the balance. "This is heaven. Eternity with Machi."

"What'd I do so good to deserve all that?" Wocky cupped Machi by the chin. Demanded more from the kiss. Machi gave way like steam, a little whimper escaping him as Wocky ran his tongue across his teeth. Wocky tasted of tempura sweet potatoes and still smelled of the bakery, though he changed out of his work clothes hours ago. Machi tugged ineffectively at Wocky's T-shirt, shifting, tried to find a way to lay where he didn't like he was about to roll off the couch. Wocky pulled him closer, making little circles on the small of his back. Machi could swear his touch left little trails of light and heat. Like magic, Wocky could awaken him in new ways from touch alone.

"You are such a good boy," Machi breathed his reply several moments too late, when Wocky surfaced from the kiss to nuzzle his throat. He slid his hand up over Wocky's side and chest, relishing the well-defined muscles beneath the thin material of his shirt.

Wocky was pleased. Machi could tell by the way he muttered, "Shoot," a little bit shyly and then applied teeth to Machi's neck. Machi squeaked and nearly squirmed off the couch. Wocky grabbed the edges of the blanket, pulled him back up. They were lost for a few moments in relieved laughter.

Machi put his arms around Wocky's neck. "Maybe, it is time we should turn in?" He laughed against Wocky's cheek, pressing a kiss there.

"But baby, I ain't the least bit tired." Wocky's fingers teased up the base of Machi's neck, buried in his blond hair.

"I am not tired either," Machi pointed out, tugging at Wocky's collar to expose his collarbone. He brushed lips there.

"W-wait, angel," Wocky stammered. His hands were gone from Machi's hair, looking for… the remote?

Machi hadn't been paying any attention to the TV. Now, he heard a theme song that made his whole body clench with irritation.

10:30PM on a Wednesday night. _The Jammin' Ninja_ reruns came on.

Huffing, Machi sat up, hugging his knees to his chest and trying to ignore a problem his legs that was rather poignant and painful for a boy of 16.

Wocky was completely intent on the TV, turning up the volume on the surround-sound.

"Is this necessary to watch every week?" Machi griped.

"It's the Jammin' Ninja. He's a pimp!"

"_The Pink Princess_ is better."

"Whatever, yo."

"Whatever is right." Machi stood up. He was fed up, embarrassed, and more than a little bit frustrated. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and toed into his shoes at the door.

"Don't go, babe! Didn't you say you wanted to stay late to watch it?"

"Is late, Wocky. I have not yet done my homework."

"Angelcakes," said Wocky. In the half-light, he was totally crestfallen. Machi almost stepped out of his shoes and back into the Kitaki house.

He really did have homework to do. He wasn't in the mood to watch some dead guy in a ninja suit sing to animals, and he knew from experience that Wocky would doze off before the ending credits. Tonight was a bust. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, Wocky. Good night."

Machi pulled on his coat and prayed the damp November night would do something to assuage the heavy heat pooling in his groin. Funny, how things changed in a year or so. When he first started dating Wocky, he wondered what the Big Deal was about sex anyway. He was glad that they never went beyond kissing.

Lamiroir always called him a late bloomer, and Machi supposed he was. Spending years in isolation and not doing simple things like _looking_ and reading and speaking to others added a layer of social ineptitude to his already cool persona of genius.

Or something like that.

Machi shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped through the gates of People Park. In Borginia, there would be at least two feet of snow in the ground. He would be able to see his heavy sighs as they lingered in the air. Not here. Here in the land of vending machines and defense lawyers, it was pretty warm, even in November. Walking through the park could easily bring back memories of summer. Right there, on that bench, he had his first kiss with Wocky. Had it already been a year since they met and started dating? Had it really been two since the murder case that kept Machi in exile in this country?

The kiss was awkward, rushed, and completely delightful. Machi remembered thinking he didn't think another person's mouth would feel slightly cold. The expectation was of heat. He also recalled that spit was a little bit of a problem, and breathing. But Wocky seemed to know the dynamics well enough, and was able to teach Machi.

Wocky never thought it was weird when Machi didn't know things. He never laughed when Machi got a phrase wrong or corrected his pronunciation. Machi could see in the faces of others that they didn't know what to make of Wocky. To them, he was loud, obnoxious and bewildering.

To Machi, he was someone who listened and touched him gently. Someone who never thought it strange that he didn't know about kissing, or freestyle, or recipes. Who replied to Machi's confession of, "I think I am blooming late," with "Momma always said the same 'bout me."

The problem now?

Machi was blooming all over the place. And if the Jammin' Ninja interrupted another make out session he'd soon be rotting in jail with Daryan Crescend and that mean bitch Alita Tiala. Not even Mr. Justice would be able to save him. He'd go back in time and murder that actor again. Then he would come back through time and murder the _hell_ out of Wocky. He would hit him so hard his ancestors would _cry_.

Not Little Plum, though. She was scary.

Machi was still mulling over his problem when he got home. No one had gone to bed, of course. Apollo pored over his case file and several thick books on the kitchen table, furiously nibbling on the eraser of his pencil. Phoenix sat on the couch reading a book called _Beyond the Cravat: The Unauthorized Biography of a Perfect Prosecutor_ and letting out an occasional snort. Lamiroir sat on the other end of the couch, practicing contact juggling with two silver balls. Between them lay Trucy, her head on Phoenix's lap and her feet on Lamiroir's. She was the only one watching TV but had it on full volume anyway.

A twangy tune rang out through throughout the living room. Machi nearly screamed.

"I hate that ninja," he muttered instead. He didn't have to take his feet off in the Wright-Gramarye household, so he just threw his jacket on the coat chair and ran upstairs before anyone had a chance to comment.

He fell asleep in the middle of doing his homework. He had a dream about trying to explain to a fox that a + b = b + a. The fox ran away. The Pink Princess came by and gave him a pink balloon. "It's okay," she said, "You're trying your best. Don't rush it."

 

The next morning found Machi in a better mood. Somehow, he'd gotten used to all the noise. Apollo practiced his Chords of Steel in the next room. Lamiroir attempted to teach Trucy how to make breakfast (today's burnt concoction: eggs-in-a-basket). Phoenix was nearly at the end of his book, which was apparently more hilarious than ever.

"Phoenix, aren't you going to shave?" Apollo rushed, his arms full of files and his face full of giddy-yet-irritated enthusiasm. "You're coming with me, aren't you?"

"Have you read this?" Phoenix didn't even take his nose out of the book.

"N-no. I've been _working_." Apollo cast Phoenix a withering look. The man was dressed for court, suit and glasses in place, but hadn't bothered to clean up his face. Despite being reinstated, he still had a rather lackadaisical way of going about things that seemed to bring out the worst in Apollo. Or maybe it was the best. "You know, work? That thing that lawyers who actually take cases do?"

"Of course I'm coming." Phoenix's hand darted out to catch a piece of almost-unrecognizable toast as Lamiroir set the platter on the table. He munched it without the slightest change of expression. "Seriously, you should read this. It's like bad fanfiction."

Machi poked at his toast with a fork. At one point did something become so dead that it actually gained new life? Was this zombie toast? He was afraid to eat it.

"What's fanfiction? Never mind, I don't want to know. Let's go!"

"Polly! You haven't eaten breakfast!" The plate of burnt eggie toast appeared magically in Trucy's hands and she brandished it at her older brother. Lamiroir laughed behind her hand.

"I'm fine, promise," Apollo assured her a bit too quickly.

"But breakfast is an essential element of a productive day! Health class said so."

"…Which essential element, carbon?"

"Then again… health class says girls and boys should go on lots of dates but never watch a movie alone together…"

Phoenix finally put the book down. He dabbed the sides of his mouth with a napkin and stood up quickly. "Stop dallying, Apollo, we'll be late for court."

"…You think?"

"Daddy! You can't leave without a goodbye hug!"

Machi was always impressed with how close Trucy and Phoenix were. Even though Trucy was seventeen, she never entered a stage where she felt she was too cool for her scruffy, card-playing father. Even more important to their brief expression of trust was Lamiroir's expression as she looked on them. A gentle sort of pride tinged with sadness. She had only recently moved in to spend more time with her family, and had feared she and Machi would upset the flow of the Wright household. There seemed to be no concern as Phoenix gave Lamiroir a brief hug too.

"You two be good at school today." Phoenix addressed Trucy and Machi.

"I'm always good!" Trucy bubbled. "It's Machi you've got to worry about. Just look at him! You're planning something, aren't you?"

"I planning to throw this icky toast on your head."

"Please don't injure your sister, Machi," said Phoenix easily. "We can't afford the hospital bill."

"Seriously, we can't," Apollo added.

"Aren't you two going to be late?" Lamiroir murmured.

Apollo did a movement that looked like a cat going all bristly. He grabbed Phoenix's sleeve, dragging him to the door. As they got on their coats he kept repeating questions. Machi went back to dissecting his toast, only half paying attention to their conversation.

"The court record?"

"Got it."

"Even the newspaper clipping?"

"Yup."

"And the pictures of the crime scene?"

"Uh-huh."

"I feel like I'm forgetting something."

"You're cute when you get all flustered and legal."

"…For your own, good, shut up."

Their tango of a conversation continued out the door and down the steps.

"Well," said Lamiroir, emptying the tray of blackened former-breakfast into the trash. "Who wants to get bagels?"

 

School did its best to sap Machi of his energy. Unlike his adoptive sister, he simply couldn't maintain cheerfulness the whole day. Then again, it was difficult to maintain a day with something you didn't really start out with. Most teachers tended to ignore him and his eccentricities, so Machi could catch naps behind his sunglasses during classes. The only class he really couldn't get away with this was physical education.

How he hated PE. The sunglasses "had to go, Mr. Tobaye, unless they are prescription!"

As if to add insult to injury, Ivy High's school colors were goldenrod and emerald green, a combination that couldn't possibly make Machi look sicklier if he tried. The smallest set of the PE uniform still hung off Machi's short, slender form. Whatever team he was assigned to always looked a little disappointed. Today, the sport was rotation volleyball. Machi's serves were terrible.

"C'mon, Emily the Cow serves better than you," one of his classmates. "Can't you at least try to hit the ball? It's like you're afraid it's going to hurt you. Are balls deadly weapons in your homeland or something?"

"Heheh, balls," the classmate's friend contributed. "I bet Machi has a lot of problems with balls flying at his face."

Machi ignored them. Stood too far to one side for the formation, but who cared, really? He wished time would pass more quickly. After school, he could go to his part-time job at the Kitaki Bakery and see Wocky. Wocky was so cute in the little fox apron that Machi just wanted to eat him all up…

Machi's classmate was wrong. Volleyballs were not deadly weapons in Borginia. They were, however, rather harmful projectiles here in the USA. When a particularly sharp serve from Emily the Cow came hurtling his way, Machi toppled like a house of cards. In the brief moment between falling and hitting the hard gym floor with his head, Machi felt relieved he would probably get out of PE for the rest of the week.

 

Unfortunately, the Kitaki Bakery was hopping when Machi got to work and tied on his apron. Little Plum, Big Wins and Wocky were running around in the back, rushing to finish an order for a bride who suddenly she wanted 'traditional' red velvet cake instead of the strawberry shortcake she ordered. Machi found it ironic that a bunch of former-gangsters could be so beholden to a tiny, loud woman with weird hair and a weirder way of speaking. Why didn't they just give her a scary look and tell her they'd only cook what she ordered?

The thought occurred that they had tried this and their Southern bride-to-be simply wasn't afraid of them.

Since Thursday wasn't a big day for the bakery, Machi was fine with manning the front alone. He did it all the time. His brain felt like a skipping record as he chatted idly with a customer. Honestly, where did people come up with these questions?

"How do you eat a chocolate cornet, anyway?" Machi recognized the customer as a friend of Phoenix's. Larry, wasn't it? The one with a sort-of-funny last name.

Machi shrugged.

"I mean… which end is the head? I think it's the small end. But if you eat it like that, then the chocolate smooshes out. On the other hand, if you start on the wide end, you don't have any chocolate left by the last bite."

Machi stared out the window. "I tear off one small piece at the end, dip in the chocolate. Can eat it very easily this way."

"Oh. You're a genius!"

"People say that," Machi said agreeably.

"I'm gonna tell Tangelina! She's gonna be so thrilled."

Larry rushed out the door. "Feel free to be wasting my time and buying nothing," Machi muttered as the door slammed and the little bell rang over and over. Machi stared out at the street and wondered if he should wash the windows or something.

He was so engrossed in his plan to possibly wash the windows that he didn't notice two flour-covered arms closing around him, lips near his neck. Wocky startled him out of his reverie. Machi leaned back into the taller man's arms. "Hi."

"Momma said to come give you your break. Sorry I didn't come say hi before, sweetness. I've been up my elbows in cream cheese frosting."

"Oh… is okay." Machi felt the flush traveling over his body, merely from the feeling of Wocky's breath on his skin.

"Babe, why you hidin' your gorgeous face? I thought you gave up wearin' those whack sunglasses." With nimbleness unbecoming of his nature, Wocky removed Machi's sunglasses and tucked them into his apron pocket.

"At school today…"

"Who did this to your face, angelface?" Wocky yelped. "Who hit you? I'll kill him! Where's my shiv?"

Machi took a single step back from Wocky's flailing. He held Wocky's shoulders in hope of calming him. "Is sports injury. Nothing so bad."

Wocky leaned over to touch Machi's face, trace the line of the bruise. Even though that area was tender, his fingers produced a strangely pleasant tingle. With just the slightest shift of weight, Machi could kiss him. So he did.

He pushed Wocky against the doorframe that led to the back of the shop. From that angle, they wouldn't be easily seen from outside the shop. Good.

Even under the aprons and layers of clothing, Machi's hands could make out the hardness of Wocky's body. Hips weren't enough, tongue wasn't enough, Machi was feeling ferocious. He undid the first few buttons of Wocky's collar. This time, he wouldn't thwarted by the Jammin' Ninja. They could have at least a few moments to--

The bell rang. Someone came in the door, and Wocky's attention turned.

"Ya oughta take your break, beautiful," Wocky smirked. Machi smirked right back, pressing a knee between his legs.

"Take your break with me," he whispered into Wocky's ear.

Wocky pushed him away gently. "Naw, naw, babe, I gotta help this customer. This is work, ya hear me? We gots to act professional." He brushed a strand of golden hair from Machi's face and offered him a smile that could melt the polar ice caps.

Machi sucked in a breath through his teeth and straightened his apron. "Right."

Machi locked himself in the bathroom and wondered if it was possible his boyfriend was actually a Zen monk in disguise. How did he not manage to not be driven crazy by every moment they spent together? How had they dated a whole year and never moved past the occasional impassioned grope?

He did what was needful for a teenage boy and spent the rest of his break sitting on the toilet lid, smoking a cigarette with the fan on. Plum Kitaki would scold him if he found out, and Wocky thought that smoking was "totally uncool, yo," but some habits died hard from years of touring with rock bands.

Machi watched the smoke drift a little. Something clearly had to be done. If they continued like this, Machi was going to turn into some sex-obsessed maniac, waiting to jump Wocky at every opportunity. He was sure he'd feel better if they would just go through with it already.

That's when the idea struck him. Machi tossed his cigarette in the toilet, and fished his phone out of his pocket. He had some calls to make.


	2. Chapter 2

"The problem with you, Herr Feathers, is you take everything so seriously," said Klavier Gavin between slurps of phở. He sat back, satisfied with his meal, and grinned at the waitress, who tittered. Klavier moved as if he sought to bring an element of glamour and class to the restaurant. Machi liked the place well enough on its own, even if it could be considered a hole in the wall. He liked the goldfish tank, and LCD screens that blared what appeared to a combination of karaoke, traditional Vietnamese dancing, and dadaist performance art. It was usually deserted in the hours after school before lunch time, which made it an ideal spot to meet a friend to chat. Plus, the food was cheap and delicious.

Klavier offered the shy waitress a smile. The girl reddened right down to her collar.

"There is parsley in your teeth," Machi muttered.

He was still chatting up the waitress. "Why yes, of course I'd sign an autograph. To Hong Hanh…"

"…Or maybe could be cilantro. They are not using parsley so much…"

"With love, Klavier Gavin."

"…Tell me why it is necessary to read what you're writing out loud…"

The girl was gone. Klavier turned his easy smile onto Machi. There was still something green in his teeth, but Machi gave up on telling him. Eventually, he'd check himself in some mirror or window or other shiny surface and figure it out. "Where were we, Herr Feathers?"

"You have to tell me. How do I lose my virginity?"

"How should I know the answer to that?" Klavier was mildly surprised.

"How are you losing yours?"

"I don't really remember," Klavier confessed. "I think it involved boxed wine, Prince records, and a really horrible experience with those sensation-numbing condoms…"

Machi poked at the remains of his sticky rice. "Then tell me how to seduce Wocky."

"You two haven't done it yet? I'm surprised, how long have you been together?"

"One year, four months."

"Hmm. He's not secretly straight, is he?"

Machi considered this for a moment, squishing his rice with his fork. He thought of how Wocky liked to grab him by the chin and kiss him unexpectedly. He thought of the times he felt Wocky's erection trapped against his thigh, trapped beneath fabric. "No way."

"Are you?"

"Absolutely not."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't know!" Machi practically shouted. "I here, I hot for him, why he does he not want me?"

Everyone in the tiny restaurant seemed to pause and wait for Klavier's response. Even the goldfish.

"Have you tried asking him?"

"No," Machi admitted, voice lowering sheepishly. "That is too awkward. I know he love me, how could I introduce that sort of question?"

"I'm not here to tell you how to live your life. But, it's usually better to know your partner _before_ the ball gag comes out, ja?"

"What?"

Klavier laughed quietly, reaching across the table to pat Machi on the head. In thanks for the autograph, Hong Hanh brought them two iced teas with condensed milk. Klavier thanked her and took care of the bill before Machi had a chance to protest.

They were walking out o the elevator into the Prosecutor's Office before Klavier actually got to the meat of the matter.

"Do you know what the sexiest thing is, Herr Feathers?"

"Whole wheat flour?"

"Confidence," Klavier purred. "If you want to seduce your boy, you need confidence."

"Confidence," Machi echoed, taking out a small black notebook from his back pocket and jotting that down.

"If you want your man to want you, you need to show him you're worth wanting," said Klavier, swaying his hips and running a hand down his perfectly tanned chest. "Put on a show."

Machi could do nothing but stare in shocked bewilderment. "Is this behaving like an adult?"

"You must be confident, ja, and think sexy thoughts. You must think you are the sexiest thing on the planet, and then, your partner will feel the same."

Klavier was so entranced by his own sexy thoughts that he walked backward into Detective Ema Skye. As a consequence of this, he was mercilessly pelted with snackoos.

"You are not sexy, you glimmerous fop! If you came onto anyone normal in bed with that act, they'd be traumatized! In fact, I'm this close to suing your swinging butt for sexual harassment!"

Klavier looked aghast. "I know more about the art of loving than you, fräulein!" Apparently, he was far more concerned about the insult to his prowess than any impending lawsuits.

"Whatever. You haven't gotten laid in years."

"How did you—"

"I performed a scientific investigation on the condom in your wallet. It's ancient." Ema grabbed Machi by the arm, leaving a sputtering Klavier behind as they ducked back into the elevator. "The only effective way to do anything," Ema informed him, "is to do a scientific investigation and form a plan off your findings."

"Are you suggesting doing experiment on my boyfriend?" Machi glowered.

"In this case, more general research might be best," said Ema agreeably. "But my computer's the most powerful in the entire police department! We'll definitely get you something helpful."

Nearly an hour later, Machi was seriously considering asking for the twentieth time how a perfectly ordered list of aphrodisiacs and flirting techniques, ordered in number of reported effectiveness and popularity of method, would really help him get Wocky into bed. Watching Ema was like watching a painter – one of those crazy ones that threw cans of paint at canvas and was proclaimed a genius. Machi was pretty sure it took a genius to type furiously while somehow still managing to shovel snackoos into her mouth at an alarming rate. It was fascinating to the point of being hypnotic.

Machi and Ema were startled from their reveries by someone loudly cracking a whip in the air.

"Detective Skye! What is this foolishness? You haven't given me your report on the Bradley case!"

Ema stared at the portrait of a tiny woman enraged: Prosecutor von Karma stood with whip posed. A snackoo fell out of Ema's mouth.

"It's right here." Ema grabbed a folder from a pile of a million ones completely identical to it, and handed it to Franziska. The blue-haired prosecutor looked over the folder and gave a curt, satisfied nod.

"What is he doing here? Does he have something to do with the case?"

"No, I had some free time so I was helping him with something."

"Oh?" Her rage apparently quelled, Franziska peered at the contents of Ema's screen. "What is this foolishly foolish business?"

"He needs help seducing his boyfriend, so I'm compiling this list—"

Franziska gave Machi an appraising glance, then began to scroll through the list. "No, no, no. This is all wrong."

Machi sighed to himself. "I am seeing some kind of bad dream…"

"Sushi? Is this some kind of joke?"

"…In which women examine my situation…"

"What are your thoughts on snackoos as a sexual food?" Ema chirped to Franziska.

"Food is a foolish kink! It makes one's breath smell."

"Hey now, a girl can fantasize," Ema huffed.

"…And then come to completely ignore my wishes in favor of their perverse discussion and fantasies…"

Franziska turned to Machi. She wasn't much taller than the young Borginian man, but she had ten times the presence, and Machi found himself honestly a little intimidated. "Listen, this list is no good. When securing a partner, what you really need to do is dominate."

She cracked her whip in the air for effect. Annoyed, Ema went to putter about with some files, munching the whole way.

"Dominate?"

"You let him know who's in charge. Whip him a little, and he's all yours. He'll do whatever you want."

"That sounds somewhat like threatening him." Machi tried to imagine standing over Wocky with a whip. Maybe a nice little uniform could be involved, and he'd make Wocky call him 'sir.' The reaction in his pants was a disturbing one, but before they could get to that point they'd have to have sex first, right?

Franziska raised a pale blue brow at daydreaming Machi. "Threatening someone is the clearest way to get your point across."

Ema gave out a loud sigh, muttering, "He was _my_ project!" She then went back to angrily munching.

Franziska snapped her wrist in a movement somewhere between ballet and executioner, and whipped the bag of snackoos right out of Ema's hand. The detective stood aghast.

"That," said Franziska, "Is punishment for not staying on-task." She offered her gloved hand to Machi. Machi didn't take it, as he was rather terrified.

"I know just the shop to get you started," Franziska smiled. "You'll have your man in no time."

With the precision of a missile, Ema's bag of snackoos was launched at Franziska's head, open end first. As the prosecutor was showered with crunchy snacks, Machi made a hasty retreat. He was pretty sure the apocalypse was coming, and he didn't want anything to do with it.

As Machi trotted down the street to catch a bus to the Wright Anything Agency, his phone chimed. He smiled at the text from his boyfriend:

**Hey bb, thinking of u. What u want 4 dinnah 2nite? Momma sez okonomiyaki. U cool wit dat? ^.^**

A spring in his step, Machi climbed onto the bus and slid into a seat. He texted Wocky back:

**Okonomiyaki is very fine. I love you. **

Wocky replied: **Iluvu2 ^.^ ^.^**

Grinning, Machi couldn't resist calling his boyfriend. The sound of Wocky's voice made Machi's heart pound.

"Heya, angelface," Wocky whispered into the phone. "Y'mind, uh, I'm not s'posed to have the phone on, I'm mindin' the front."

"Then why you text me?"

"Ain't nothing going on! So of course I be textin' mah crew."

"…Tangelina left me, man!" A voice could be heard wailing in the background. Machi recognized it as Phoenix's friend Larry, from yesterday. "The only thing that can soothe my heart is that beautiful girl who told me how to eat cornets yesterday! Please, where is that angel?"

"Hey, you talkin' 'bout my baby?" Wocky suddenly became interested in actually doing his job. Well, sort of. Machi was pretty sure he heard his boyfriend drop the phone and vault over the counter. He could easily imagine the wannabe gangsta grabbing the gangly loser by the collar. "You ain't no good, son, you ain't no good in my shop! You get right out! Ain't nobody 'lowed to look at my angel with horny thoughts but me, ya hear?!"

Machi laughed behind his hand as he overheard what was probably a very mild scuffle. Wocky said a single, affected, "Shoot," before picking up his phone again.

"Is it true what you say, Wocky? You think horny thoughts when you see me?" Machi felt a pleasant rush of heat suffuse him, pooling between his legs. He forced his gaze out the window in hopes the situation would get a little less embarrassing.

"An' when I hear you, an' when I think of you, an' when I kiss you. It's like damn, baby, how you do dat? You must get so tired out runnin' laps in my head!"

Machi didn't speak English as his first language, but he was pretty sure that Wocky had his colloquialism wrong. "If it's true, then why have we not--"

"Momma's coming," Wocky cut him off, and hung up the phone.

It was just as well. He'd reached his destination.

 

Unlike his rival, Apollo Justice could not be roused from his desk, even on the promise of coffee, ice cream, or anything else Machi attempted to tempt him with. Heaving a sigh, Machi slouched in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. The last place he ever wanted to be was in this chair in a defense attorney's office, even the one of his adoptive brother's. Apollo scribbled his notes furiously, occasionally glancing at a lighter and a bookmark with an angel on it with a very serious expression. When it became very clear that Apollo wasn't going to ask him what he wanted, Machi asked, "May I ask a sort of personal question?"

"Do you need help with your citizenship exam? I know mom told Trucy to help you, but I could understand if…"

"No, no. Is more a personal issue. I need to know. How do you seduce your boyfriend?"

Apollo looked thoughtful, tapping his cheek with his pencil. "I'm not really sure, it just sorta _happens_. But I guess you should bite your lip a lot. And call him sir."

"I could not at all call Wocky sir. Even if he wore a tie." Machi found himself daydream it again. Maybe if Wocky was one of those classy mobsters, in a suit, packing heat. He filed that as another game to try if he ever managed to get Wocky in the bedroom.

"No, probably not." Apollo seemed vaguely disturbed by the mental image and frowned at the notes he was jotting. "Well, there's another alternative."

"You could talk to him. You know, ask him what his likes and dislikes are."

"Klavier said the same."

Apollo snorted. "You asked him too?"

"I conducting a survey," said Machi with a shrug.

"I'm surprised he was able to come to such a sensible conclusion."

"Maybe I not wanting a sensible conclusion. I want sex!"

"Don't you think you should be a little more responsible?"

Machi crossed his arms. "No."

"I don't know what to tell you." Apollo looked up from his work for a moment to offer Machi a fond little smile. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Okay. Good luck with the case." Machi stood.

"Thanks," said Apollo, deflating a little over his stack of paper and evidence. "I'm gonna need it."

"Business as usual?" Machi couldn't help but tease.

"Business as usual," Apollo sighed.

Machi glanced at his phone. There was some time before he had to catch the bus over to the Kitaki Bakery, so he swung by the kitchen for a Coke. If there was thing that made him feel closer to being an American citizen, it was his newly minted love of corn syrup and caffeine. Lamiroir kept the fridge and pantry stocked with all sorts of junk food, though Phoenix wasn't allowed any. A single glance in the direction of a ho-ho earned him a poke in the belly from Trucy and a long-suffering sigh from Apollo, usually accompanied by some sort of speech about how he 'really needed to consider his health.'

Machi was glad that no one felt the need to comment on his eating habits. Except for Wocky, who occasionally said, "Damn, where'd ya put it all?" and Mrs. Kitaki, who always preened at how much Machi enjoyed her food. Machi could remember a time when his appetite wasn't this crazy, but as he blossomed it seemed his desire to consume encompassed all sorts of things. Books, music, movies, food, Wocky… He couldn't get enough of his freedom. He wanted more and more.

He smiled, leaning against the counter. The house peaceful while Phoenix was out working on a case. Lamiroir and Trucy were probably over at the Wonder Bar working on their show.

He finished his Coke and rinsed out the can. He turned to toss the can in the bin, and was startled by a loud popping noise when he pushed the pedal of the recycling bin.

A colorful mess of balloons and plastic bits flung themselves at Machi's face and fell to the floor. Even as the balloons drifted slowly to the floor, Machi recovered from his shock and yelled, "Trucy!"

Trucy popped up from behind the counter. "It worked! The safe sex recycling bin is a success!"

"The… what?"

The balloons were inflated condoms. What he mistakenly thought were bits of confetti were actually condom and lubricant packages. Machi felt himself blush to the very tips of his fingers. He thought he might wrap those reddened hands around his adoptive sister's pretty little neck.

Machi took a deep breath. He had never won an argument with Trucy once, because she was oblivious to tempers. The angrier someone got, the more cheerful, bubbly and oblivious she became. "What is the meaning of this? Trucy! Why on earth would you stick these things in a recycling bin? This is because you know I would drink a Coke?"

"Just a happy coincidence!" Trucy assured him, but Machi didn't believe her. "You were the best person to test my newest trick on. Safe sex is important!"

Machi twitched. "Trucy…"

"You're gonna have sex with Wocky, aren't you? You'll need this stuff!"

"You overhear me…"

"It's hard to keep secrets from your family, Machi. Anyway, why didn't you ask me how to seduce Wocky? I could have tons of advice!"

Could she, now? Machi sighed. "Okay, Trucy. How should I seduce Wocky?"

"Do a magic trick! Like with the safe sex recycling bin!"

"I… lack your talent." Talent. That was what it was. Not insanity.

"Still, you should be spontaneous! Do something that will bring a smile to his face! Dress up in a cape and top hat!"

Costumes. Add that to the list with confidence, food, bondage and roleplaying. Why did everyone he talk to have such weird tastes?

"I thank you, Trucy, but I think it is best maybe if I should do this free of advice. Just to go with my instinct, you know?"

"Sure, Machi! Say, how does the Constitution start?"

"It starts with 'We the people…'"

"Good job!"

Machi nodded and set his can in the recycling bin where it belonged. He picked up one of the condoms littering the floor and stuck it in his pocket, then headed for the door.

"Machi?" Trucy called over.

"Hm?"

"Good luck!"

 

Machi considered himself a man on a mission. After dinner, instead of lazing around on the couch watching TV, he grabbed Wocky by the collar and whispered in his ear, "We need to talk. Your bedroom. Now."

Wocky's eyes widened. "Sure thang, angelcakes."

Wocky's room was the sort of organized chaos that would normally drive Machi up a wall. Samurai swords decorated the walls alongside Jammin' Ninja posters. Wocky sat down, pushing aside his floppy Blue Badger pillow to make room for Machi on the bed. Machi looked down on him for a moment, and wondered if not bringing a whip with him was a mistake. It might be easier to talk to his boyfriend if he scared him. Instead, Wocky was just giving that lazy, oblivious grin that Machi loved.

Machi sat down. "I have question."

"Yeah? Something wrong, baby?"

"Why have we not had sex?"

A blush covered Wocky's face. It started at his cheeks, spread over his nose and then crept down his neck. "Babe," Wocky said softly.

Machi shifted his weight, leaned against his boyfriend, head on his shoulder. "I love you. I want to be with you. I want my first time to be you. We get so close, and then it never happens. I feel like a bad suspension film."

Wocky took his hand and threaded their fingers together. "Y'know I love you, angel puff. I just don't want to push ta something y'ain't ready for."

"I ready! So ready! All I can think about is doing it with, don't you feel that way about me?"

Wocky pressed a kiss to his temple, nearly in his hair. "'Course I do. But, see, thing is. You're sixteen. I'm twenty-one. Y'got lotsa growing up ta do, and…"

Machi pulled away, tapped Wocky's face with his knuckles. "Cut the bullshit, Mr. Jammin' Ninja. If one of us is the adult, we both know is me."

Wocky chuckles. "Yeah, okay, ya got me there."

Machi laid a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth. "Then what is the problem, really? We should be able to talk about this."

"Well, I've thought a lot about us, trust me. But, well, this is kinda embarrassing…"

"No secrets between us, Wocky." Except Machi's smoking habit, but that was a conversation for another day.

"I haven't been with nobody but Alita, so I ain't got much experience, but I think my Little Kitaki is, uh, y'know, weird."

"Nothing about you is weird!" Machi insisted. "Except the way you eat muffins. I am sure your cock is not so weird."

"Damn," Wocky muttered.

"Hm?"

"Nothin.'"

Realization dawned, and Machi grinned. "Really? It didn't get you the least bit bothered for me to say the word cock?"

"N-naw." The blush was back, and Wocky was backing away. Machi crawled over him, pushed him back, straddled him. His hand dove between Wocky's legs.

"So, you saying it not effecting you at all when I talk about your cock? Not even a little? Not even when I talk about how much I thinking of it, how I jerk off to the memory of your stiff cock? You not getting hard because you thinking of how much I love your cock, how I touching it, how I want it?"

They were questions he really didn't need to ask. He knew the answer. Rubbing himself gratuitously against Wocky's thigh while he stroked Wocky through his pants, Machi purred. "You do want me, don't you?"

"Th-that weren't never the problem," Wocky gasped. "I don't wanna do nothin' ta hurt my baby, and w-well, Alita, she said that it was real big, seemed to be the only thing she liked 'cept my money. But you're a guy, an' I could hurt you 'cause it's too big."

Machi laughed like little bells. "If you think you are putting it in me our first time, you are completely mistaken. I have test tomorrow, no way am I going with the sore butt." He unzipped Wocky's pants. "Really, Wocky, we can be creative. Or did Alita never ever give you blowjob?"

"I don't wanna talk 'bout her right now," Wocky squeaked as Machi pulled his cock from his pants and dove downward.

"Forgive me. No more talk now." Machi took a perverse pleasure in the way Wocky twitched, somewhere between pleasure and embarrassment. He took a moment to admire Wocky's unclothed cock, running fingers up the underside. It was larger than he expected, slightly curved. He decided he liked it. He leaned down to brush his lips over the tip, just the slightest movement, when an oddly pervasive thought emerged.

Machi tried to ignore it, lowering his mouth slowly over that mushroom-head shape. But it wouldn't go away, and he soon had to pull away, covering his mouth.

Trying to hide the fact he was giggling.

"Wh-what's the dilly-yo?" Wocky stammered. "That ain't cool, baby, not cool at all! Whatchoo laughin' for?"

"Sorry," said Machi, still hopelessly laughing. "I just – I just having this thought – this is the first time I have been this near a cock, and, it struck me as very funny! I have a hard time believing I doing this!"

"Uncool, totally uncool!" Wocky griped. Stopped Machi rolling around on the bed by holding onto his shoulder. "Finish whatcha start, why don't ya?"

Machi went quiet. Blue eyes blazed up at Wocky's brown. "What did you say?"

"…Finish whatcha start? Y'don't hafta, boo, I didn't mean--"

"Do that again."

Typically, Wocky could easily be accused of not catching onto things quickly. He was called a late bloomer for a reason. However, at that second, something clicked. Perhaps it was the moment he blossomed, or perhaps he just made a particularly shrewd observance of his boyfriend's desires.

He shook Machi by the shoulder, a slightly forceful gesture. "Finish whatcha start," he said roughly.

Machi nodded, almost imperceptibly. Telling him to go on.

"Well?" He squeezed Machi's shoulder, getting into it a little bit.

Machi licked his lips. Wocky ran his fingers through his soft blond hair, and gripped it lightly, angling him downward. Machi moaned a little.

"Now do it, sweetness. I know you can."

As Machi eagerly took him into his mouth again, sucking wetly, he couldn't help but think that it was entirely possible he was just as weird as his friends.

Machi wasn't great at giving head. It was his first time, and it was to be expected. He was figuring things out. Wocky kept that grip in his hair mostly for show. Now and again Machi would stop, looking up at him with eyes like the sky in July, and he would urge him down again. Machi seemed to like that a lot.

Wocky's transformation was impressive. His high-strung voice slid into lower registers, and he tended to say little else but, "Thass right baby," occasionally instructing Machi to use more tongue, back off, suck more, more spit, less teeth.

His jaw was aching by the end of it, but Machi found the effect his efforts had on his boyfriend to be more than worth it. As he finally seemed to get a hand (or a mouth, so to speak) on it, Wocky's grown-up murmurings were accompanied by the slight movement of his hips and flexing of fingers in his hair.

"M'gonna come," Wocky warned him through his teeth. Machi wasn't totally sure what to do. He didn't really want to get it on his face like people in porno, but he didn't want to choke, either. He settled for pulling back partially, still working Wocky's erection with his fingers while he sucked the tip. The sucking noise seemed loud in the quiet room, lewd in comparison to the delicate gasps Wocky was making.

It was over quickly, much less climactic than Machi expected. Suddenly there was this squirt of hot, salty stuff, and he swallowed it out of surprise as much as anything else. Still, he found he was oddly satisfied at the sight he gazed up at. Wocky laid back, looking for the entire world like a cat that caught a canary. He played with Machi's hair.

"Y'like that, huh?"

Machi wiped his mouth and nodded. Wocky yawned. Adorable. Machi crawled up to cuddle up against his boyfriend. He was more than a little surprised when Wocky pushed him onto his back, trapping him between his arms. "Now s'your turn," Wocky whispered in his ear huskily. He opened Machi's legs easily, stroking between them, coaxing Machi's erection. Nipped his neck. "Been thinkin' 'bout it," said Wocky in his ear. "Why it took a whole year for us t'get here. Y'were waitin' on me, weren't ya? Y'were hopin' I'd make th'first move. You wanted me… to take over. An' here I was thinkin', my willful, stubborn, perfectionist angelcakes, he'd approach me the second he wanted to. And if he hadn't yet, it meant he weren't ready."

Wocky palmed the outline of Machi's hardness almost mockingly. "If this is what my boo wants, then this is how he's gonna get it. You like me like this, huh?"

He looked so pleased, dark eyes almost slits, dangerous and foxlike and yet so completely his that Machi could do nothing but throw his arms around him. When Wocky's hand grasped and stroked his bare cock, Machi gasped into his shoulder, losing himself in the motions completely.

"Thass right, thass how you should look beneath me," Wocky purred near his ear, marking the skin of his neck with his teeth. "I can't wait t'make proper love t'ya. Get all up in that ass."

Despite himself, Machi snorted. Wocky looked slightly embarrassed, then laughed as well. They fell to chuckling for several moments, then Wocky grabbed Machi by the chin, kissed him, and started anew.

Amazing how the context of someone else's body, someone else's hand could make everything feel so different. So good, so strange. Machi's hips bucked, he moaned, and before he could utter any sort of courteous warning, he came, closing his eyes and watching fireworks explode.

They lay together in a heap, content and exhausted. After a moment, they cleaned each other up with tissue, and settled into each other's arms. They fit like puzzle pieces, snug and perfectly matched.

10:26PM on a Friday night. Machi and Wocky snored gently in one another's arms, half-clothed and rosy.

Machi had a dream about trying to teach a fox piano. The fox gave him a pink balloon and licked him on the nose, and he knew everything was going to be just fine.

 

THE END, yo.


End file.
